Five more minutes
by duchessofdisaster
Summary: A significant problem with relying on a human to satisfy your sexual needs on an ongoing basis is that they need to sleep, for hours at a time, when there are orgasms to be had.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own the vampire diaries. If I did, Alaric would work out nude.

For **saltzatore**, filling a kink-bingo square at **tvd_slash_kink** on lj. Come join us. We have cookies. And handcuffs.

A significant problem with relying on a human to satisfy your sexual needs on an ongoing basis is that they need to sleep. Really. They just close their eyes for hours at a time, when there are orgasms to be had. They waste close to a third of their lives this way.

Not that Damon has a problem with sleep per se - quite enjoys it himself from time to time - but eight hours seems excessive, particularly on a daily, or near-daily basis (he has noted that Alaric sometimes sleeps for as few as four or five hours, though not without side effects – in particular, a bad mood. Not the general pissy, spluttering bad mood Damon actually likes - more of a bitchy, unpleasant bad mood that makes him almost glad when Alaric leaves. Also, he will generally only get out of bed after so little sleep if he has to go to work, and for Damon, Alaric at work is even more dull than Alaric asleep).

Alaric rarely sleeps over, and when he does, Damon wants to play. He wants to play until he's sated and Alaric's unconscious. And then wants a short break to rest and then play some more. Enthusiastic, bendy play. With lots of dirty talking, a bite or two, some snark and a bit of a tussle over who gets to top first. But Alaric has been asleep _forever_, and the sun is starting to rise.

As Alaric sleeps, Damon brushes soft fingers over his spine and neck, eliciting a full-body shiver.

Of course the whole sleeping thing is not the only problem with relying on a human to satisfy your sexual needs on an ongoing basis. Damon, thanks to a healthy combination of a vampire's constitution and the libido of a twenty-four year old can go for hours and hours - he's really not sure how long - while Alaric, human and fallible, does eventually wear out. And need sleep.

(To be fair, Alaric does manage better than the average human. Which is one of the reasons Damon is thinking that right now would be a really good time to halt the damnable passage of time by turning his best-friend-with-benefits into a vampire. Before they're paying for Viagra for the next five hundred years.)

As Alaric stills again, Damon plots.

The whole sleeping thing needs to be managed carefully. Wake him up by jumping on the bed – or jumping on Alaric directly, for that matter – is likely to put him in a bad mood, and then he might leave instead of participating. Go too gentle, and Alaric might not wake up sufficiently to perform.

The thought gives Damon pause. There might be a happy medium here. Wake him up enough to be all warm and compliant, but let him stay sleepy enough so he doesn't try to get out of bed.

Suddenly, Alaric's deliciously naked, sleeping form looks like a canvas for Damon's ministrations, and Damon notices his heart rate increase, his limbs warm a little, and he makes the first brush stroke; sweeps a soft kiss against Alaric's mouth, letting his tongue dart out to part Alaric's lips just slightly. Alaric doesn't exactly wake, but he half-kisses Damon back, as if he thinks he'd dreaming.

Emboldened, Damon runs his fingers over Alaric's mouth, relishing the slight roughness of the stubble just beyond his lips, and then maps out the same path with the very tip of his tongue.

Alaric twitches, and his eyes open a fraction. "Whady'doin'?" he slurs, mouth curving into a half-smile.

"Entertaining myself," Damon half-whispers, "since you're not awake to entertain me."

"'m'wake," Alaric half-insists, before his eyes flutter closed again and his breathing returns to its sleeping pattern, deep and sweet, a hint of bourbon detectable in the heady warmth Damon can feel puff just slightly against his face.

Really, Alaric should know better than to just blithely fall asleep like that. Has he forgotten that vampires are dangerous?

Damon places his fingers over Alaric's lips again, and Alaric mouths softly against them, still mostly asleep. Damon feels himself stir, wiggling a finger, working it between Alaric's lips until Alaric takes it into his mouth, wrapping it with a heavy tongue, hot, wet saliva coating it. Damon takes the finger, and shifts it to Alaric's nipple, rubbing against the tip until it pops like a gem.

Alaric has ridiculously sensitive nipples, and the sensation briefly wakes him again, just as Damon lowers his mouth to bite gently at one. Alaric moans, wraps his arms around Damon and draws him closer, before going slack again.

This time, though, he's half-hard, which is just _neat_.

Damon wriggles from Alaric's embrace, careful not to wake him all the way, to study the results. Alaric's cock appears to have a mind of its own, twitching determinedly. The easy thing for Damon to do would be to put his mouth on it, lick and suck until Alaric wakes the rest of the way, holds his head in place in that commanding way he tends to, and if Damon times it right, Alaric will definitely be in the mood to be fucked raw by then.

But this is… fun.

Careful, Damon shifts his weight, moves down the bed until he is close to Alaric's foot. After licking his lips in anticipation, he places his mouth on Alaric's ankle, trails his tongue and an obscenely swollen bottom lip up his calf. Gratifyingly, Alaric stretches a little and rolls just slightly further onto his side, making an unintelligible noise, and still mostly asleep, reaches for his own cock.

Now, that was unexpected. And… well, fantastic, really. And it doesn't go any further than that, because after a sigh, Alaric's breathing goes back to that slow, sweet, sleeping pattern. Still, Damon feels optimistic about how the rest of the morning will go.

He glances at the picture window, the pink and orange sunrise playing against the trees, and returns to the task at hand.

"Where was I?" Damon asks himself, quietly. Of course. Approaching the back of Alaric's knee.

Another spot that can always be relied upon to elicit a moan, or something more exciting, so rather than work his way up to it, Damon attacks it – kisses the back of Alaric's knee like he would kiss his mouth, lips and teeth and tongue, all need and hunger and want, and the effect is instantaneous; Alaric's spine rolls, he stretches out, groaning, trying to lift himself onto his elbows, and to Damon's delight, even his toes are curling.

"Good morning," Damon purrs.

Letting his eyes drift shut again, lazy smile on his face, Alaric nods. "So far."

"You awake yet?" Damon asks, tonguing circles against Alaric's lower back.

Alaric shakes his head. "Nope." He lets his weight settle back into the mattress, and his breathing slows again, but there is something different.

Damon listens hard, trying to work out what has changed.

It's Alaric's heartbeat. It is not quite the heartbeat of someone who is falling back to sleep. Damon grins. He'll play along.

There is an bare expanse of inner thigh, where the skin is so sensitive and responsive it's begging to be tasted, and this seems like a good place to go next. Lips, and tongue, and a soft scrape of teeth. Just beneath the surface, Alaric's muscles twitch, and his pulse climbs another notch, but it's not all an act – he's still sleepy, and pliant, and warm beneath Damon's hands and mouth, although parts of his anatomy are most definitely awake by now.

Just to be tortuous, Damon lets his tongue just barely trace the weeping slit at the tip of Alaric's cock, and Alaric lets out a sharp little sigh, rolling his hips slightly. The roll seems to continue, until Alaric's shoulders follow, and his smile widens.

Damon changes tack, shifts so his body lies alongside Alaric's, his mouth at the back of Alaric's neck, and he slowly works his way with his tongue and lips down Alaric's spine, deviating to the side from time to time. Beneath his lips, Alaric curves his spine, twists his hips again, pushes back against Damon's chest, reaching one hand behind him to touch Damon's arm, lazy, but encouraging.

Damon is easily encouraged.

He reaches the spot on Alaric's hip where Alaric wears a series of ghosted scars, each a perfect replica of Damon's teeth, each placed carefully, lovingly, and only when Alaric is drenched in hormones, and literally begging for it. Damon won't bit him now, but he runs his tongue over the mark, following with a soft breath, cooling the saliva-slick skin until Alaric gives another breathy moan.

Damon swipes a lazy tongue across Alaric's lower back and down to his ass, spreading his cheeks, until Alaric sucks air through his front teeth and fists his hands into the sheet.

"You awake yet?" Damon asks again, after tonguing gently at Alaric's rim for a few moments, relishing the gentle, involuntary thrusts Alaric's hips make.

Alaric's voice is strained. "Nope. Not yet."

Damon smirks. "Lucky I'm patient."

Alaric scoffs. "You're not that patient."

"I'm patient enough," Damon says, and returns his attentions to Alaric's quivering rim, until Alaric can't pretend to be asleep for another moment, turning suddenly and taking Damon in his strong arms.

"You win," he says, eyes unfocussed, drawing the vampire on top of him, licking and nipping at his jaw and neck. "I'm awake. What exactly are you trying to coax me into?"

But Alaric collapses slowly back into the bedding, loosening his hold on Damon – not much, but now it's less an embrace than a cuddle, and Alaric's eyes are drifting closed again.

Damon is bored.

Damon hates being bored.

Time to up the ante.

Damon slithers down Alaric's body until he's nestled between Alaric's thighs, and lowers his mouth to Alaric's cock, which has disappointingly started to soften. Not for long, though; as Damon's lips and tongue begin to slowly work their way from the head to the base of the shaft, strong lips, insistent tongue, Alaric hardens again, very gratifyingly, and starts to grind his hips, his hand drifting to Damon's hair, holding him in place, and Damon is never sure exactly why this possessive gesture is such a turn-on, but it is. He lets his teeth just barely make contact with the delicate flesh, reminding Alaric that he's at the mercy of a predator, but there's no threat in the gesture; Alaric knows as well as Damon does that he wouldn't risk this.

At last, Alaric comes undone, by the magic of Damon's lips and tongue, shooting hot jets into Damon's mouth, and lying, shuddering for long moments, before letting his face betray a wide grin. Damon finishes swallowing, wipes his mouth almost delicately on the back of his hand, and holds Alaric's eyes.

"Now are you awake?" he asks, a wicked glint in his eye, a quirk on his lip.

Alaric props himself on his elbows, grinning lazily. Gives Damon a considered look, and then relaxes back against the bedding.

"Five more minutes," Alaric insists, before Damon makes a strangled sound and launches himself bodily at him, and all thought of sleep is gone.


End file.
